


Jelly Belly

by Anonymous



Series: More Than You Can Chew [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Deities, Enemas, Extremely Dubious Consent, Feeding, Inflation, Magical Punishment, Other, Stuffing, Things aren't properly explained ahead of time, This is a punishement, Weight Gain, expansion, kinda cause it's not water, thanksgiving themed smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:01:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25581772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After a poor growing season for Marja's gourds, surely not caused by her own neglect of duties, she's ready to give the harvest spirit a piece of her mind. Marja then finds out what sorts of creative punishments such a spirit designs when insulted in her own temple.Pick one food to eat, deal with the effects. Simple, right? And she can't miss the opportunity to eat the fancy, jelly-like berry cream.
Series: More Than You Can Chew [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854058
Kudos: 44
Collections: Anonymous





	Jelly Belly

**Author's Note:**

> There's no jelly beans in this.

“I don’t really think she’s doing all she can,” Marja said loudly. “If she was, my harvest would have been better. Do you know what happened to my prized pumpkins this year?”

All around her, people hurriedly rushed past, paying her no attention or glaring at her before continuing on their way. Her sister wrung her hands in her apron as she looked out the window of her bakery.

“Oh, sister, you shouldn’t talk like that,” she admonished.

“Why not? It’s true isn’t it? The harvest spirit should be doing better at her job. Especially when we give so much to her each year.”

“Sister, last year you gave her one pumpkin.”

“A good one! As all of mine are,” Marja protested. “It’s more than she deserved.”

“She gets her power from our offerings,” said her sister. “Maybe-”

“So she can’t do anything without us? Useless.” Marja crossed her arms and turned up her nose. “I ought to complain right to her. Perhaps then she’d realize what a poor job she’s doing.”

“No sister- Marja wait!” Her sister reached out, horrified, but Marja moved out of reach and swept away, already planning.

She walked through town, stewing about the pumpkins she grew. They were always amazing, but this year, and even a little bit the year before, they had been set upon by a host of problems the harvest spirit should have taken care of. Problems like slugs, ground rot, and just generally growing too small.

Had Marja been busy with other things? Of course! But that’s why they had the spirit, right? To take care of certain parts of the crops’ care so the people would have more time for leisurely pursuits.

Her pumpkins might have won her a competition in a nearby town, too, might’ve attracted the attention of someone important, for once.

Feeling a righteous indignation, Marja finally stormed into the temple.

It was a simple building, most of it open to the outside, but people had already begun to place offerings near the altar. Marja was prepared enough. She pulled out a little pumpkin from her basket, half eaten through with rot, and placed it on the altar.

“Look what you’ve allowed to happen,” she said. “My beautiful pumpkins are barely grown at all, most of them sick and disgustingly shriveled things. No one will care about them now. What shall I do in the city? Who will care about nasty pumpkins such as these? They will sneer at me.”

Her hands formed fists at her side. “How dare you call yourself a harvest spirit.”

She waited then, fuming about her rotten crop. A breeze blew gently through the building, but surprise surprise, no answer.

Marja snorted and turned her back.

“Keep the offering,” she said. “If that’s all you want to give me, that’s all you’ll get back.”

As she moved to walk away from the altar, she stumbled. Her vision spun, and she pinwheeled her arms to orient herself. What was happening? Was she ill? Was the world moving around her? She screeched as she had the sensation of falling while upright, and closed her eyes.

When her feet felt sturdy ground, and her body gained equilibrium, Marja cracked open her eyes.

Around her was a marvelously lavish feast hall, with offerings filling the corners, just like the ones in the temple. All around, candles on the walls and some suspended from the ceiling offered a warm glow, making the wooden walls look homely. 

It appeared as she imagined a lord’s house might look.

A slight excitement grew within Marja’s trepidation. Of course she had no clue how she’d arrived, but perhaps this was her big moment--everything she’d dreamed of getting and everything she deserved! She smoothed out her hair and clothes, waiting.

She needed to wait only a few moments until an archway appeared--out of what was a solid wall?--and a woman walked through.

The woman was visibly muscled, like the other farmers Marja often saw, mainly the ones who worked in the fields and with the strong animals, capable of carrying large sacks of grain with no help, or wrangling cattle into position.

Though confused, Marja put on her best neutral face. She was certain things would be explained.

The woman did, in fact, stop in front of her and smile, before saying, “Welcome. I heard you besmirching my name in my temple.”

Marja blinked. Wait, _this_ was the goddess of the harvest? 

It wasn’t as though she didn't look the part, the spirit had already seemed like someone who’s life was spent in the fields. Her clothes were, well, it didn't look much different from most of the townsfolk Marja saw everyday of her life. It was rather disheartening, but nothing less than she expected; The harvest spirit had let her down this year.

Marja stuck her nose up and crossed her arms. “I am unsatisfied with what you’ve provided, or rather, chosen not to provide this year.”

“Are you?”

“Yes,” Marja said, scowling. “You cannot take our offerings and provide nothing.”

“And the others feel the same?”

Marja bristled. She knew a deflection when she heard one. “Do not think you can bestow bounty on simply a few and call it good work.”

“You wish your pumpkins hadn’t rotted,” the spirit said. Or guessed? Had she even taken a look at the disaster she’d allowed to befall the crops under her protection?

“Of course I do!” Marja said. “It is your domain, and you should take responsibility.”

The spirit was nodding, though not in a way which indicated she agreed. Rather, she had a thoughtful look on her face, as though she was coming up with an idea she liked.

“I see. Well, I simply can’t have you leaving rotted offerings, besmirching my name, and saying such horrific things about me. And in my own temple no less.”

Marja scoffed, but jumped and squeezed at her arms when the spirit snapped her fingers. As she gestured, a long banquet table came into existence, covered in a bounty of foods.

Marja felt her mouth water at the sight and scent of the foods. There were plenty of crops of course, such as roasted corn and sweet cooked apples, but what interested Marja were the city dishes: Duck covered in gravy and served over rice, candied yams, and a large bowl of rich cranberries and cream, fluffed to an unbelievable degree.

“So, I have a challenge for you, a sort of test and punishment rolled into one.”

Marja reluctantly moved her eyes back to the spirit and raised a brow.

“When I am required to punish people, I let them choose their own fate. It shows me more of their character. You may pick one dish from this table, any dish. Then, you must eat all of it, and deal with the effects.”

Humming, Marja looked back to the food. These were all dishes she would not have a chance to try, maybe for a long time, maybe ever. Reluctantly, she nodded her head.

“It isn’t as though I have much choice, I see. I will choose this.” Marja waved a hand at the bowl of berries and cream.

She hoped it would be not only tasty, but easier to get down than a whole roast duck.

“Of course. You may start.”

The spirit moved to the side, waving her hand once more to make room around the bowl, and stood patiently. Marja strode up to the table with purpose; She would be calm, and collected, and eat the delicious food of the harvest spirit herself. After all she had been through this year, it was the least the spirit owed her.

Marja did not find silverware of any sort, no matter where she looked. Another test of the spirit's, no doubt, to make her look like a pig as she ate. Well, Marja wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.

Instead, she grabbed the bowl by the sides, amazed at the beautiful, intricate glasswork which perfectly encased the sweet-looking food. It was not too terribly heavy, so Marja lifted it with both hands and brought it up to her mouth. As expected, she could slide the food right to her mouth.

What she hadn’t quite expected was how solid the food was. As she tipped the bowl, she found it was not viscous, and most of it wobbled forward rather than sliding like a sauce.

Marja reached with her lips at the edge of the bowl, trying her best to grab just a small portion.

When the food hit her lips, she forgot all of it.

The food was like the most glorious combination she’d ever tasted: tart berries, rich cream, and a subtle sweetness through it all, which was only complemented by the texture. She’d never had anything like it; it was bouncy in the bowl, yielded easily to her teeth, and was smoother than anything else she’d had going down her throat.

Why, she didn’t need to chew this to swallow it. She would, of course, best she was able. She was a lady, and would prove she was worthy of a finer life than she had.

It was difficult not to simply pour the whole bowl into her mouth at once and swallow it like a snake with an egg. She needed to eat the whole amount though, without getting sick.

Little by little, she ate it. She tipped the bowl back and forth--to her lips for a bite and down to resist temptation. Eventually, she was taking the last wobbly bit of it in and swallowing. She was done! Marja smiled to herself, pleased and giddy she passed whatever little test the spirit had hoped to have her pass.

She set down the bowl and looked around to find the spirit.

As she did, Marja noticed her stomach felt awfully full. It was to be expected, of course, it was a large, filling dish, easily as large as her stomach, but it still felt odd when she placed her hand over her belly. There was a little mound there, where the bouncy berries and cream had settled. She felt she was rather lucky that the bowl had been only as big as it was.

As if summoned by the thought, the spirit suddenly appeared to her side.

“Done with this one? I’ll take it.” The spirit magicked the bowl away, leaving Marja only a second to wonder about the wording before another bowl was whisked right back in its place. “Ready for the next one then.”

Marja blinked at it, and rubbed her stomach. She didn’t feel full, no matter the little paunch in her middle. When she touched it, it was a pleasant sensation, comforting almost.

If the harvest spirit thought having one more bowl would break her, she was sorely mistaken.

Marja nodded and picked up the next bowl as well. It was heavier, she noticed, and larger, but she steeled herself and continued. Another bite, another swallow, and again, and again.

She was half way through the bowl when her arms began to tire. She didn’t do nearly as much fieldwork as some of the others in town, raising mainly garden vegetables, so her muscles burned from holding up two glass bowls. She refused to place her face in it though, she was not a pig.

Instead, she stopped lowering her bowl, keeping it right by her lips, simply taking a bite and swallowing before opening her mouth for another.

It would make her eating easier, and give her arms a little rest from the constant up and down.

With her new strategy, it took less time for her to finish the last half of the bowl. The flavor was still as exquisite on the last bite as it was with the first. It only made Marja more furious; Why didn’t the harvest spirit share such bounty all the time? She was clearly capable.

When the current bowl was replaced with yet another, bigger one, Marja plunged right in.

She wasn’t thinking about the way her stomach stretched, though perhaps she should have. As her thoughts were consumed with fury and petty ideas of eating all the harvest spirit’s cranberry concoctions, a small part of Marja’s mind was noticing the way her dress seemed… tighter.

Her stomach had to be incredibly full at this point, though she could not spare a thought as to how she was still eating. Her stomach was pushing against her dress, not tight, exactly, but soft and wobbling like the berries she ate. She shifted her legs, and noticed her thighs were rubbing together in ways they did not before. They, and her butt as well, had an odd bounce to them when she shifted, like they too were somehow filling with the food.

But that couldn’t be possible, not normally. No, not normally, but for a harvest spirit, magic was obvious.

A little part of Marja wanted to stop eating, to grab at herself and see what was happening, but the rest of her was still engaged in “winning,” and teaching the spirit some sort of lesson.

She was so far gone, she couldn’t remember what that lesson might be.

Her dress was stretching around her sides as the next bowl was placed in front of her, so big it was easier to tip it to the side and kneel at table level to get the food inside. The dress creaked and popped seams as Marja’s body slowly pushed out against it.

She felt her arms grow heavier as they too grew more wobbly. Her sleeves strained to contain her arms now, little parts of the seam popping over her biceps, and even further along the shoulders and sides.

Soon her breathing grew harsher as her dress began pushing out along the front and back. She felt pressure along her stomach, yes, but also her back and- and… her breasts.

Still she kept eating from the bowl tipped over her, unable to stop.

A couple buttons strained to the point they popped loose of the thread, releasing her front to push out further, the layers underneath doing little to hold them in. Her stockings she could feel ripping, too fragile to contain her growing legs.

Tart berries slid between her teeth, her mouth open to swallow down in an endless wave as her body grew further. When she finished the current bowl, she gasped, even more buttons popping from their places, and the white underdress began to rip under the strain of the growing flesh.

The movement sent little ripples through Marja’s body, and unused to the shape she was becoming, or the extra weight, she fell the rest of the way to the floor.

Her ass hit the ground, sending even more waves through her jiggling body as she landed on the mountain of new flesh.

Marja gasped, again and again, clawing with pudgy fingers at her apron until it came undone and the side seams of her dress finally gave up, splitting from skirt to sleeves. Flesh spilled out, allowing her stomach and sides to relax some. She flexed her arms to rub at her stomach and the sleeves split as well, a loud ripping sound following both.

As another bowl was placed in front of her, she groaned. She was growing out of her clothes, wobbling around like the very food she was shoving in her mouth, surely she had no more room.

Even so, she could not stop herself from leaning into the bowl, just at level with her chin, and swallowing whatever her mouth could reach.

She grew further and further as she ate, and she eventually resorted to sticking her thick arms into the bowl to begin scooping the creamy substance into her mouth. Her ass grew larger, pushing out against her skirt and up and up as if it was a plush seat. Her legs grew thicker and flabbier, encasing the bowl between them in soft flesh, while her stomach and sides grew out and down, pulled by gravity even as they bounced with Marja’s movements.

More tearing sounds continued as she ate into the bowl, and soon her dress was parts and rags barely clinging to her. Even her underdress was tattered, her almost gelatinous flesh spilling forth as she grew around the bowl.

Then it was removed.

Marja sighed, sounding more like a whimper. She touched her face, finding not just smeared cranberry and cream, but pudgy cheeks, and more chin and throat than she remembered. 

She had to accept she was getting fat all over. Was the harvest spirit doing this on purpose? Why? Had she picked the wrong food?

The spirit showed up with a new bowl, this time the lip of it higher above Marja, and as big around. She knew, even as she shook her head that she would be compelled, as if by magic, to eat every bite set in front of her.

Unable to reach the food from where she was sat on the floor, Marja tried, for the first time, to stand up in her newly gelatinous body.

She quickly found herself struggling to rise. She barely had the muscle strength to move her body, much less lift it. Not helping was the fact her flesh jiggled with every move she made. Marja had seen the way the fatter women of rich houses moved--the few times she’d gotten glimpses anyway. And she was certain her own body was wobbling about more like the food she was eating than any sort of natural fat.

When she tried to get off her ass, her cheeks swayed and clapped together. Her arms wobbled as she moved them around on the floor, trying to push away. Her stomach pushed against her sides as she bent, making her back wobble too. Her breasts hung heavy, swinging back and forth as she moved side to side, trying to gain any leverage.

She grasped onto the bowl above in desperation, pudgy fingers attempting to grip onto delicately designed glass.

Huffing with strain, Marja managed to at least get her legs under her, but couldn’t muster the strength to lift herself high enough. She grunted and almost shrieked in frustration. If this was going to be her punishment, she should at least be able to do it! And preferably without making even more of a fool of herself.

Marja looked around and found the harvest spirit watching her from nearby.

“Help me,” Marja demanded.

“With what?”

“You know exactly,” Marja snarled. “I can’t reach inside this one, and it’s too heavy to tip over. So do something!”

The harvest spirit raised a brow, a little smile on her face. “I didn’t expect you to be so eager. Especially for a punishment. Would you really have tipped it onto the floor to eat if you could?”

Though Marja wanted to say something nasty back, she didn’t get the time; the spirit had already appeared next to her and easily hoisted her up the rest of the way to lean against the lip of the huge bowl of creamy, wobbly cranberry sauce.

From there, there was no question as to what Marja would do. She reached into the bowl which was nearly up to her armpits, scooping up a hearty handful of the sweetly tart food, and shoved it into her mouth.

Then the cycle which had gone on for so long, hours maybe, continued. Marja shoved bite after bite of the substance into her mouth, swallowing almost as soon as it entered.

Her figure, too, kept growing. It seemed as if she was gaining as evenly on top as bottom. Her ass grew heavier, even as her legs grew thicker to support the two fleshy globes. Her sides pressed out further on her arms, forcing her to hold them higher, and her stomach pressed more against the bowl keeping her up, even as it also pressed down towards her crotch, practically covering it.

Which was a good thing, as she was practically devoid of clothes, most of the stretched and torn rags having fallen to the ground.

Her breasts were high enough to rest on the bowl as Marja reached in, though it also gave her a better view of the way they ballooned and slipped over the sides of the glass. Each bite she took, she also felt her face, and her cheeks were growing out rounder too.

So consumed was Marja in her eating that she hadn’t noticed the absence of the spirit, nor the sudden reappearance. Though she did notice the hand on her back.

“Looks like you’re doing alright here,” said the spirit. “But I noticed this one doesn’t have nearly the cream as some of the other bowls. And wouldn’t you know it, I happen to have some extra here. Whipped cream, I call it. It’s awfully fluffy. A real treat.”

Marja moaned into her next mouthful, but was unable to even shake her head no.

“I knew you’d want more. Too tempting to resist, right? Even if it’s not something you should have, really.”

That, that little- Marja was furious. Was the spirit implying Marja didn’t deserve to have nice crops? To impress the higher echelons to move beyond the mere drudgery of digging in the dirt? Unfortunately, in her fury, she began stuffing her face faster, and had no opportunity to make more than a few enraged squeaks.

“You seem busy of course,” said the spirit.

There was the sound of a container being moved across the floor, and a canister--around half the size of the bowl she was currently eating--was placed just within her line of sight. Barely peeking over the top, she could see a mound of cream, but unlike any cream Marja had seen before.

It was pure white, looked light, and fluffy, yet surprisingly solid.

“But being occupied with one food doesn’t mean you should be banned from enjoying another. Not to worry hun, I’ve got it all sorted.”

As the spirit walked around, Marja tried to move her body to follow with her eyes. It didn’t work well. Her entire body jiggled as she shifted her hips and feet side to side, but her upper body didn’t seem to want to move; she couldn’t stop herself from leaning further into the bowl to grab at the food as she ate it lower and lower.

“It’s only kind of me to offer help, an alternative solution, since you’re stuffing your front end.”

Marja squealed again when she felt hands on her butt, brushing off the last scrap of fabric which had lain on her before pulling her cheeks apart.

Marja stifled a moan at the sensation, her face burning in embarrassment under the cranberry stain. She’d never had someone be so intimate with her. She supposed it was different, having it be a spirit administering punishment, but she couldn’t help feeling yet another embarrassment on top of the one already occurring at her food binging. She hoped she could finish soon.

The spirit seemed to have no trouble keeping her cheeks apart, and Marja briefly worried the spirit would shove a hand into her most sensitive area, or something.

She did not, for which Marja was thankful, but she did feel a press at the pucker of her asshole.

She ate faster.

Whatever it was, it felt smooth and cool, like the most pristine metal. As it began to press in, Marja couldn’t help but wiggle, even though there was nowhere she could make it, at this point. The thing went further and further in, pausing or slowing when Marja tensed around it.

More than that, though, Marja noticed that the rest of the object which was following was significantly softer, and bent to follow the shape of her insides.

When it stopped, Marja let a relieved breath out of her nose. Okay, she was okay. No lazy, disgusting spirit like this would-

Her thoughts trailed away when the spirit let go of her cheeks and they slapped back together, sending a wave of jiggles through her body. She moaned again into her food, watching as the spirit moved to the canister of cream.

Wait. The device had some, some sort of hose attached, and it went to Marja, who had something in her-

Marja’s eyes widened, but all she could do was make small noises between swallows as she dipped her body even further into the bowl. The spirit had a little smile, something which looked pitying, and Marja hated it.

“Here you are.” The spirit made a motion, little magic sparks trailing off her fingers.

A sound began, _fsshh_ , like air and thick fluff were being squeezed into a small space. For a few moments, Marja thought wildly that maybe it wouldn’t work, or she had been mistaken. Then she felt the first bit of whipped cream enter her.

It was cool, cooler than the metal, and creamy, and as light and fluffy as Marja had seen, only now she could feel it entering her that way.

It pushed up and up, the opposite way things usually moved, pushing against Marja’s insides with a soft yet unrelenting pressure. It continued even as Marja ate, and she panted as she felt herself being filled from both ends, neither being truly under her control.

The pressure in her lower gut brought to light something she hadn’t taken much note of until that moment: she did not feel full.

Obviously she couldn’t if the spirit wanted her to eat so much without dying, but there had been very little actual “full” feeling in her stomach, despite how much she shoved down her throat or how big she’d grown. All of the cranberry sauce she ate went directly to the rest of her body, hanging off it as pillowy fat. Not the whipped cream though.

The whipped cream--as more pushed up further into Marja--maintained itself, filling her gut without dissipating. Marja worried. Would it be painful now? It was the final stretch of her punishment; Surely it wasn’t meant to cause harm.

A shiver ran through her, and she wished she could take a break from eating, if only to be able to ask questions.

As her gut slowly filled, pushing it out just a bit further, hardly noticeable under all the fat she’d already accumulated, Marja tipped further into the bowl. The sauce was getting almost too low to reach. She found she almost had to lean upside down to reach it.

The pressure on her belly made her groan, and she wobbled with each movement of her arm to scoop. The little waves of jiggling flesh were becoming more pleasurable the more it happened.

As she tipped--just a little further in--her feet lifted from the ground. In fear of falling completely inside the bowl, Marja waved her legs back and forth. She very suddenly found that her thighs had grown so fat and rubbed so close together that she teased herself with each movement. As her pudgy feet stretched her toes back towards the ground, moving about to search for it, her sex clenched in unexpected pleasure.

With a huff, Marja decided to tilt backwards. She couldn’t.

No, with the last of the cranberry still taunting her at the bottom, her body instead decided to tilt further forward. Marja yelped as she slid partially in, saved only by her wide hips and legs catching at the rim, folding her over the side.

Now her breasts and her entire belly were flopped over the interior of the bowl.

It wouldn't have been much of a problem before, with only the cranberries. The whipped cream, however, was still full of pressure. It was light, but her insides were beginning to feel tight, especially pressed against the glass bowl as they were.

“Doing well,” said the spirit. “Halfway with the cream.”

Marja let out the first despairing noise of the entire session.

She could see the bottom of the bowl now, and she was thankful she could reach the rest from her position. Or, mostly. The last few handfuls were at the bottom on the other side of the bowl.

Desperately, she reached out with both thick-fingered hands. It had to be the last bowl, which meant the last bit of food.

Her fingers were only a small distance from it, and her mouth opened in anticipation. She could do it! Finish the stupid trial and be done with it. As she pushed one arm against the bowl for leverage, stretching out with the other, she grunted, tongue perched on her bottom lip in anticipation. Her torso’s fat rolls waved back and forth over the bowl--if the part of the body they came from could be called a “torso.”

Marja felt so full and flabby she was certain nothing would fit her anymore. She had no waist, as her body was like an apple-shaped blob of wobbly magical food, a bag for the gelatinous cranberries with extra cream.

Marja was so close when the spirit spoke up.

“Hm, I guess we better make sure to finish both up at the same time.” The sound of the whipped cream grew louder, and Marja moaned, saliva dripping from her lips.

The whipped cream pushed in faster and with even more force. She felt like she would be filled with nothing else by the time they were done, just barely woman shaped, a container for the treats inside her. It felt as though it had gone all the way through her gut, right up to her stomach, and then began filling each twist and turn until they bloated with the cool substance.

Actually, she wondered if that were the case. It felt like a lot of the quickly filling whipped cream was backing up, had refused to go through the stomach and began filling up backwards, creating a solid, tense dome of pressure underneath the rolls of her belly.

Every bit of it pressed to the bowl pulled a whine from her, and she reached further. The bowl shook, but Marja persevered.

Finally, finally! She reached the last of the berries. With a triumphant cry, she grabbed them from the far end and pulled them to her, shoveling everything down her throat without even closing her mouth, drinking it down more than eating.

And as soon as she stopped, she felt a huge release into her ass.

She cried out as the last of the whipped cream was forcibly shoved into her, the pressure so intense it pushed the hose device right out of her.

Feeling the unspooling of the hose, the sudden sensation against her rim and the buildup of cream within her released something in Marja too.

She felt lights dance in front of her eyes, a sparking, blazing sensation travel through her, making her shake and increase the pleasure as her whole body wobbled, trembling through an orgasm amplified by her own body’s involuntary movements. She felt as if each small twitch set of another wave through her surprisingly wobbly fat, and her entire body lit up with her nerves’ sensitive response to the waves of jiggling flesh.

She huffed and moaned through it, barely aware of her own position as it dragged on and on, spurred on as it was by the food taking up space within her, pushing her to her limits. When she slowly began coming back down, she noticed she was draped over the lip of the bowl still, upper body hanging inside while her legs were on the other side, her hips and ass up in a perfect position for viewing.

And view them the harvest spirit did. Marja heard her hum and felt as she moved her asscheeks aside, the wobbling making Marja moan at the sparks it sent across her tired and overstimulated body.

“You look wonderful! Like you have a pleasant creamy center.” The spirit chuckled a bit, poking around and swiping at Marja’s hole.

Marja clenched down involuntarily, and she gasped as she felt some cream push out, just barely brushing against her rim. She shivered.

“That’s all finished then,” said the spirit. “Let’s get you back on your feet, if we can.”

Marja wanted to complain, though about what she couldn’t decide. Could she even get up on her feet anymore? But she certainly couldn’t stay in an undignified position like she was in forever.

The spirit made the decision fast enough, and Marja felt herself being lifted from the bowl, levered up in a way which would place her upright and on her feet.

Her fatty rolls jiggled as she was moved, but this time, Marja was able to bite back her reaction. It felt less than before, as if the sensitivity was slowly fading away. Marja hoped everything would. She’d be unable to do many things in the shape she was in.

She hadn’t known just how right she was until she was “standing” on the ground again. Her balance was thrown by all the changes to her body, and she was forced to use the harvest spirit’s help.

As her feet touched the ground, it was obvious they had swollen--she could feel little piggy toes against the cool, textured surface of the floor. Higher than that, her calves wobbled, both from the fat and the pressure bearing down on them, while her thighs were so thick they practically melded into each other.

Her hips had widened considerably, and when Marja moved and tried to look behind her, she was certain her rump was bulging backwards larger than the pumpkins she’d grown in years past; there was practically a shelf of flesh to set things upon.

Her stomach was one of the easiest things to see, it subsumed most of her vision when she looked down, and even some when she looked straight ahead. She patted it with her unbelievably thick arms, the slap of skin joined by an almost splat-like sound as she hit the cranberry concoction under the surface. She was far beyond pregnant-looking, her bulging rolls along her side and back complementing the massive, child-sized belly she now sported. Her arms were pressed up by the fat, unable to point straight down any longer.

In comparison, her breasts had grown little--though even they had reached the size of prize winning melons--weighed down and resting on her stomach.

She brought her hands up to feel around her face. Her shoulders and neck had gained from the food as well, fat bulging from her neck in such a way that it created rolls with her chin, her cheeks puffed out and smoothed in curves which joined her jawline to her neck.

Marja couldn’t believe it. She continued a slow rotation of patting herself down--gently of course, she didn’t want to bother her sensitive flesh--but it was still hard to understand or accept.

She blinked when the harvest spirit stood in front of her, still helping to hold her up.

“I see it’s difficult for you to take in.” The spirit looked, sympathetic? Or maybe pitying. Marja scowled, or wanted to, but her eyes and mouth were still numb from the shock of her exploration. “All of this is from within you.”

“Really.” Marja shook her head slightly, feeling her chins and neck wobble, but it got more emotion into her voice. “How so? What makes you think I deserve this?”

“It’s not about deserve. I allow everyone who takes the challenge to pick their punishment. There was initially only one bowl of cranberry gelatin.”

Marja narrowed her eyes. “Until you supplied more.”

“Yes.” The spirit’s tone was guileless. “There was nothing compelling you from the outside. No, what drove you to continually consume was your greed. Wasn’t it, Marja?”

“What. Do. You. Mean.”

“What I said,” the spirit sighed. “Your desire to have everything was what drove you to keep consuming, even as it took its toll on you. You might have kept consuming until your mouth was covered completely, had I not stopped you.”

“You just stopped bringing bowls-!”

“I gave you the extra cream to fill you and stop the effects you laid upon yourself,” the spirit interrupted.

Marja scowled. Quickly, she thought it over, and she realized that being filled with cream was when she stopped feeling the overwhelming urge to take, and consume, and stuff herself with every bite she could get her hands on.

“I didn’t expect such greed from you.” The spirit looked disappointed. “But I suppose I was hoping for the best.”

Marja felt a little thrill of fear run through her. The punishment was over, wasn’t it? Couldn’t she learn her lesson and go back to normal?

“What now?” she voiced, trying to keep her trembling down.

The spirit shrugged. “I can’t rid you of your greed. That’s part of you, and not my domain. Besides, few gods would interfere in a way which would change a person’s heart. But you have taken your challenge and punishment, further than I was expecting, even. So there’s no reason to keep you here.”

“Can’t rid me-... Wait.” Marja’s mind spun. “Wait, you mean to say you- you can’t undo this?”

The harvest spirit shook her head.

Marja shook her head again, then gestured to herself as best she could, trembling in rage; It was the only reason she didn’t react to the way her new additions shook with her.

“Try!” she demanded.

“I did,” said the spirit. “I have. You’re actually quite lucky you hold no active malice for people. You might have started rotting like your crops.”

Marja paled at the thought, but the spirit continued.

“But look, you want a lot from life, don’t you? To be rich and have everything served to you, right? Maybe this is lucky for you, huh? I could drop you off in the big city.”

Marja vetoed that immediately. She had no clothes, for one, and no friends in the city to help her.

“Or just back in my temple. It’s close to harvest, there will be people there for the contest, eh? Important people?” The spirit tapped her chin with one hand, and Marja felt magic begin to encircle her. “Yes, they should be by soon enough, Until then, the town can take care of you. They’ll have to, since you will be in my temple. Yup! It’s decided.”

“It isn’t,” Marja protested.

The spirit backed up regardless, and Marja felt herself tilt until more magic surrounded her, keeping her from collapsing.

“Close enough,” the spirit said. “You have to go back, and this more intense change is on you. Like I said, you could have a noble take an interest in you. That probably would help with your greed problem... Or make it worse, but. What do I know of mortals?”

The spirit shrugged. The air began to shimmer like a heat wave, and at the most intense point of it, Marja thought she could see right back into the temple she’d come from.

“You’re… really sending me back,” Marja muttered.

The harvest spirit tilted her head, her mouth a lopsided slash across her face. Still, she said no more than, “You’ll need my magic for a bit, so you’ll have to walk through a different kind of doorway.”

There was nothing more to say, apparently, nothing more to do. Marja knew, deep down, that she had reached for too much. She’d insulted a spirit in her anger, and paid the price. She just- shouldn’t she be allowed nice things? Why should she have to work and work and get nothing like the nobles had when she deserved it all?

She frowned, and held her head high. Fine. With cautious steps, her body waving with the motion, her thighs sliding against each other, she walked towards the magic doorway.

Each step brought her closer to embarrassment, but also brought her some measure of pleasure. She wondered if her jiggling thighs and stomach, her wobbling ass, would always bring her such feelings. She might never know. She might never walk without help again; She held her head high, accepting.

She was still beautiful, after all. She would just have to be smart.

Marja appeared dizzyingly in the temple, the magic slowly fading. With her last few steps under her own power, she chose to sit nearest a pile of beautiful flowers and gourds. With a large wobble, she collapsed onto her ass. 

The doorway closed, and the magic was gone, the temple silent.

Grabbing the largest leaves and beautiful buds, Marja began looping and weaving them together in a way to cover her most private areas. She had some time. She would be the most beautiful woman in the town, the one who looked most as a noble lady, a gift from the harvest spirit.

And if she got hungry waiting for someone to stop by, there were always the offerings to munch on.

**Author's Note:**

> Is it fall? No, but weird shit's happening so weird shit's getting posted. And hey, no one's gonna stop you from coming back to read it during another time of the year.


End file.
